


Lost in that Head of Yours

by orphan_account



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Allen gets in trouble a lot, Allen insults a mob boss, Allen's just Allen, Alternate Universe - Mob, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Childhood Friends, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mob Boss Michael, OFC - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Slight Violence, and fuck, bc its a mod au so what else do you expect?, but just bc I'm giving them what they want doesn't mean the ppl need to know who I am, giving the people what they want, they used to date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Micheal's a mob boss, Allen's an accomplished astrophysicist, they used to date, neither one ever got over the other.





	Lost in that Head of Yours

“Mimi, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He ground out, voice rough from screaming. Mimi rolled her eyes and continued to dab at the cut on his eyebrow. The man winced as the jagged edges of his cut rubbed against each other, and the dark-haired woman sat back on her heels, a concerned look in her eye as she took in the man in front of her.  


Her best friend, renowned astrophysicist Doctor J. Allen Hynek, was currently sitting on the against the door in front of her, exactly where he had collapsed after slamming it shut and locking the deadbolts. But that wasn’t all.  


The left side of Allen’s face was completely swollen; both eyes were black, shifting into purple; the cut was on his lip had reopened as he talked, blood seeping into his mouth and staining his teeth; the cut on his brow was, surprisingly the worst, spanning from the corner of his left eye to his hairline. She hadn’t gotten the chance to check on the rest of his body yet, but she was guessing it looked similar to his face.  


“This is going to need stitches,” Mimi muttered as she leaned in a little to get a better look. She had managed to get most of the street gravel out of the cut and had cleaned away the blood that was covering his face, but the cut only seemed to get worse. “I should get you to a hospital.”  


Mimi jumped as Allen’s hand shot up to grab her wrist and keep her from standing. She looked to see him staring back at her, eyes jumping frantically from her face to the window and back to her face again.  


“No, no hospital. He said not to go to a hospital.” He told her. He looked so afraid that she couldn’t help but give in, running a soothing hand through his hair.  


“Who told you that Allen? The man that did this to you?” She asked him softly. Allen shook his head quickly as if appalled by the suggestion.  


“The man who stopped them.”  


_—Fifteen minutes before—_

Allen curled tighter into himself, bracing for another kick, trying to protect the places he knew would damage him the most if attacked. He should try screaming for help again, but his voice had gone raw ten minutes before. He should ask them what they want, but he already gave them everything he had. He should beg them to stop, but he already tried. Allen whimpered as a hand grabbed the back of his jacket, lifting him off the ground and shoving him face-first against a brick wall so hard that he felt the skin of his face rip and tear, felt the blood running into his eye and down the bridge of his nose, dripping on his jacket below.  


He heard the sound of a knife being flicked open. He should beg again. He opened his mouth.  


_“Hey!”_ And Allen was confused, that voice didn’t come from him. That voice was round and deep and commanding. That voice roared. There was the click of a gun cocking. “Step away from him, boys.” The voice growled. “Don’t think I won't shoot. Look at me, idiot, look at my face.” There was a gasp and the pressure on his back messed slightly. Until another voice spoke.  


“Don’t let him go, Lenny.” It said, Allen recognized it as the voice of one of the goons. “You know what the boss sent us to do, you know what he’ll do to us if we don’t.” And Allen was shoved into the wall again. He groaned as brick dust was ground into his face.  


The was a gunshot and a scream. But not Allen’s this time. Allen opened his eyes to see a man fall back into the same wall he was pinned against, clutching a bleeding leg.  


“I’m the only boss here.” The deep voice said and a man moved into Allen’s vision, pushing the injured man up against the wall. He shoved the barrel of his gun into the thug’s mouth. “But, since you love the _pig_ that sent you so much,” The man continued, pushing his knee roughly into the man’s injured leg as he said the word ‘pig.’ “I’ll leave you just alive enough to see him one last time.”  


The new man slammed the butt of his gun into the goon’s head, knocking him unconscious, and let him fall to the ground.  


“I really do hate getting rid of bodies,” The man let out a humorless laugh, turning his attention to the man still pinning Allen, face cast into shadows. “Or, at least, my men do.” He stepped over the unconscious man on the ground, dress shoes shining in the moonlight in shades of black and red. Allen’s stomach turned when he realized the red was the other man’s blood. “And what of you?” He asked gesturing to the second thug with his gun. “Are you going to make the mistake of defying me too?  


The man seemed to consider the question carefully, glancing down the alleyway to his right, considering running, then back to Allen’s savior and his gun. Then, he made up his mind. The silver of steal glinted pale in the corner of Allen’s eye as the man raised his knife. Allen held his breath, waiting for the worst.  


The sound of another gunshot echoed loudly throughout the empty street. The man’s hot blood splattered on Allen as the bullet pierced his skull. The second thug’s body fell to the ground, limp and lifeless. Allen was about to do the same when a warm arm circled his waist, holding him fast.  


“You’re alright doll, I’ve got you.” The man’s voice said, softer now, the cold edge it had to it before melting away revealing a slightly melodic deep timber.  


The man directed Allen away from the bodies and into the yellow glow of a nearby streetlight, supporting most of his weight, and helped him to sit on the curb. He stood above Allen, the yellow silhouetting him. Allen could see his features, couldn’t see much actually since his glasses lay broken on the ground. But Allen was pretty sure his vision would be exceedingly blurry, even with his glasses and ample light.  


As looked down at Allen examining him, Allen could feel the intenseness of his gaze. A hand came up to cup his cheek, surprisingly soft and careful.  


“How in the hell did you get yourself into this mess, Allen?” The man asked. Allen gaped up at him all the different shades of confused. How did the man know his name? Allen didn’t know him, he would have remembered such a beautiful voice.  


It hit him that he shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful this man’s voice was, after all, he had just killed one man and shoved a pistol in a second man’s mouth. Tears sprung to his eyes as they drifted to the bodies, crumpled on the streets like trash, but then the man’s grip grew a little more firm, drawing Allen’s attention back to him.  


“Shhh honey,” The man said, hand moving around the back of Allen’s head, softly pushing him to bury his head into his thigh. “Don’t look at them, they’re nothing now.” A sob ripped through Allen at the words. The _weren’t_ nothing. They were living, breathing men. At least one of them still was… But probably not for long.  


“What if…” Allen started, his throat aching from the sobs already. “What if he had a family?” The man’s hand paused where it had been stroking Allen’s hair. Then, he sunk down into a squat in front of Allen, whose head was hanging down towards the ground.  


“Allen, they tried to hurt you.” Allen winced as the man’s fingers brushed over the gash on his forehead. “Scratch that, they _did_ hurt you, and they were going to kill you too. I don’t give a fuck if he had a family, I won't let anyone kill you. Ever, Allen.” There was something familiar to the way the man said his name that time, to the way it rolled off his tongue in soft, caressing syllables. Allen’s head snapped up, his vision swarmed for a moment, then, it cleared, allowing him to see the man’s face for the first time that night. Probably for the one-millionth time overall, however.  


_“Micheal?”_ And Allen was sent back to his childhood. To days spent in the sun with his friend, to their first months of high school when Michael had stood up for Allen numerous times. To their first kiss. To their last. Every happy memory stabbing like the knife still sitting in the dead man's head, everything leading up to the day they took Michael. “I thought you were dead,”  


Allen’s hand reached out on its own accord, needing to touch, to feel the face of the boy he used to know, and the skin of the man he had become.  


“I thought Luca took you, but you’re here,” Michael nuzzled his face into Allen’s hand, like a cat rolling on the sun-warmed carpet. “How are you here?” Michael bit his lip.  


“He did.” He sighed out, casting his eyes away from Allen, and Allen wished he wouldn’t. “Luca did take me,” His eyes flicked back, “and he raised me. Groomed me to take over.” Allen gasped, jerking his hand back quickly. Michael looked as if he had been expecting it. But that didn’t hide the hurt on his face.  


“Allen, please,” Michael’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m still me.” Allen shook his head, shrinking back slightly.  


“You can’t be. Not if- not if-“ Allen didn’t know how to finish his sentence.  


“Luca treated me well, he helped me, baby.” Michael had always been a fan of nicknames, but Allen wished he would stop. Allen wasn’t his baby anymore. Michael reached out again but Allen stood and backed away.  


“He killed your father, Michael.” Allen’s voice was shaking. “He killed your father and he took you away from me.”  


“My father was a bastard,” The softness disappeared from Michael’s voice entirely as he spoke of his dad, just as it always had in the past. “He deserved what he got.” Allen gapped at him. v 

“That’s why you can’t be the same man.” Allen stated. He didn’t know how deep his words were cutting. “You never would have believed something like that before.”  


Michael finally pushed up from his squatting position, striding towards Allen like the beast he had become. Allen backed away. Until he hit a wall.  


Michael’s hands came down on either side of Allen’s head, boxing him in as he used to against the high school wall—out back where no one could see them—but this time it was different. The caring look Michael used to wear every time Allen caught him staring was gone, replaced by nothingness.  


“My father beat me, Allen,” One hand lifted to trace Allen’s gash. “He would cut me worse than this and leave me to bleed until my mama got home to fix me up. The bruises you would ask me about? Those weren’t from some school ground fight like I told you they were. They were from him.” Michael set his jaw; an old tick meaning he was trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. “I always wished he was dead. Only now, I’m not afraid to say it.”  


Allen stopped trying to melt into the wall, instead of launching forward to hug the other man, grunting as his injuries were jostled. Michael’s moved to return the embrace without a second of hesitation.  


“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, you asshole.” Allen squeaked out, holding back tears. “I could have done something, I could have helped you.” Michael shook his head, digging his nose deeper into Allen’s neck.  


“No, there was nothing anybody could do. My father was Luca’s right-hand man, if anyone stood up against him besides Luca…” Michael didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew how it ended. Allen pulled back so that he could see the man in front of him.  


“So you’re in charge now.” It wasn’t a question, Allen had seen the announcement of Luca Bianchi’s death in the papers. There was supposed to be a news blackout on the story, Allen had learned, but… Well, the leader of the Italian Mafia dying was not a story you passed up on.  


Michael nodded.  


“How the hell does a mob boss have time to be running around in the middle of the night saving me from ruffians and thugs?” Michael snorted a laugh causing Allen to smile. He had always been able to make Michael laugh, he was glad he still could, even now.  


“You have no clue how much trouble you cause me, sweetheart,” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve saved your cute little ass to many times to count, and you never even noticed,” Michael’s hand slid down Allen’s back until it rested just above the swell of his ass. “Just go about, lost in that head of yours…” Too many questions popped into Allen’s head at once.  


“Why are they after me?” Was the one that ended up coming out of his mouth. Michael shrugged.  


“Probably has to do with that time you refused to help the American mob lord.” He said, then a smirk grew on his face. “Or maybe it was the fact that you called him a ‘goddamn idiot’ in front of about twenty of his top men.” Oh… Allen had forgotten about _that._  


“He asked me to build him a bomb, Michael. A _bomb.”_ Allen shook his head. “He is a complete and total goddamn idiot if he thinks I, an _astrophysicist_ , knows how to build a bomb.” Michael’s smirk grew.  


“You do know how to build a bomb.” He said smugly. Allen bit his lip and rubbed at his nose, a tick Michael learned meant that Allen was about to lie.  


“Well _he_ didn’t know that he just assumed that I studied science… Besides, researching how to build a bomb in high school is not the same as actually attempting it. So, no, I don’t know how to build a bomb.” Allen argued. Michael leaned forward until his mouth was right beside Allen’s ear.  


“Don’t lie to me, darling, you seem to forget — I know you better than I know myself.” Michael whispered, breath hot against Allen’s ear. As if to prove his point, he pushed even closer and scrapped his teeth softly against the skin behind Allen’s ear, the place he remembered as Allen’s sweet spot. The other man melted into him, letting out a small noise, sounding shocking similar to a whimper.  


“Oh, how I missed the noises you make,” Michael growled, biting at Allen’s earlobe. He forced himself to pull away before he got too far gone, once again addicted to Allen’s skin. The other man was still hurt after all. He chuckled when he saw the slight pout on Allen’s face. Michael grabbed his hand.  


“Come on, let’s get you somewhere they can get a good look at you, make sure you’re okay.” Allen fell into step beside him as they started walking, wondering if this was really real life.  


“Hospital?” He asked after a few minutes of walking. Michael shook his head.  


“No hospital, if the Americans so much as _think_ you talked to the authorities… Well, I can’t be around to protect you all the time.”  


“Where then?” Allen asked, Michael was just about to answer when a car came screeching around the corner in front of them.  


_“Fuck.”_ Michael hissed, quickly jerking Allen into a nearby alleyway. He spun Allen to look at him, both hands bracketing his face. “Baby, I need you to run. Run as fast as you can, don’t stop ’til you get home.”  


“Michael, what-“ Allen started to ask but Michael cut him off.  


“That’s one of Redmond’s cars, he must be looking for his men. But he defiantly saw us, so I need you to run.” Allen shook his head, grabbing Michael’s wrists.  


“But what about you?” He asked, hands shaking but tight, not wanting to let Michael go.  


“My men are nearby, they can be here in minutes, but…” Michael looked over his shoulder, biting his lip. “But it’s not going to be pretty, you don’t need to see this.” Allen was about to protest again, but then, Michael kissed him.  


The kiss was hard and bruising, but it wasn’t a goodbye kiss, it was a promise.  


“I need to put an end to this now, baby, I can’t have him keep coming after you. He needs to know that you’re mine.” He placed another kiss on Allen’s mouth, softer this time, but still not goodbye. “I need you to say it Allen.”  


“I’m yours.” Allen said nodding, softly stroking Michael’s wrists with his thumbs. He could hear the car getting closer outside the alleyway.  


“Go on now.” Michael told him, a small smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you soon, love, don’t worry.”  


Allen nodded one last time, pulling Michael’s hands away from his face and placing a soft kiss on both of his palms. Those hands had already killed one man that night, leaving another as good as dead, and were about to kill who knows how many more. But Allen found that he didn’t care. All he cared about was that Michael promised he would see him again.  


So with that promise fresh in his ears he turned.  


And he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, the sounds of gunshots were soon drowned out by the pounding of his feet.  


_—Present—_

“No hospital.” Allen reaffirmed. It hadn’t been that long of a run to Mimi’s place, he could still hear the gunshots if he tried hard enough. He hoped Michael was okay.  


Mimi sighed.  


“Be glad I’m a nurse. Maybe I can make it so this doesn’t scar.” She pushed to her feet to retrieve what she needed. _“Maybe.”_  


>< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< >< ><

The gash was healed and Allen still hadn’t seen Michael. It had been three months. He had gotten new glasses and there was barely a scar on his forehead and, this time, he was pretty sure Michael was dead.  


Of course, he had been completely sure last time and it turned out that he was wrong.  


So he held onto hope.  


Three months faded into four, and four into eight… And Allen knew that Michael was alive. He had to be. There was no newspaper article except for the one about the shoot out eight months before and the number of bodies found.  


_24 Americans. 6 Italians. No Michael._

But that meant that, if Michael was alive, he wouldn’t be coming to see Allen anytime soon. Allen didn’t know if death would hurt more. It didn’t last time. 

Allen fiddled with a small, deadly sharp sheath knife. Michael had slipped it into his pocket right before Allen ran. It's warn leather sheath sat on his coffee table. He raised his arm and shifted his weight forward.  


The knife embedded itself into the linen closet door.  


The door was already littered with holes from where the knife had struck over the past eight months, ever since he got bored one day and decided to learn how to throw. The equation was simple, lulling. Allen enjoyed it.  


He walked forward and tugged the knife from the door-turned-target. 

“Your technique is flawless,” A deep voice behind him. Allen knew that voice. He turned and loosed the knife. It found its place a quarter of an inch from Michael’s ear.  


Michael jumped away, looking between the knife and Allen with wide eyes. 

“Remind me not to sneak up on you again.” He said, surprise and fright melting into his normal cocky attitude. Allen stomped toward him, ripping the knife from the wall before retreating again.  


“I knew it was you.” He bit out, venom lacing his tone. Michael tilted his head to the side, now seemingly confused.  


“Then why did you-“ Allen doesn’t let him finish his sentence. 

“It’s been eight months, Michael.” He crossed his arms, keeping a careful eye on the blade as he did so. “What are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question because Allen didn’t want an answer, he didn’t want a reason or an excuse. He wanted Michael to leave.  


“I came to check up on you.” Michael said, taking step towards Allen. Allen took a step backward, something aching in his stomach as Michael deflated slightly. “The, uh, cut healed well. How’d you manage to escape scarring that pretty face of yours?” He asked, trying to regain his balance.  


“If you’re asking if I went to a hospital, I didn’t. I did exactly as you ordered me to do. I ran, I kept running.” Allen gestured to his forehead. “Mimi fixed the gash.” Michael’s eyes hardened slightly at that.  


“Who’s Mimi.” Michael demanded, he had circled the couch now, and Allen too where he once had. Allen rolled his eyes and turned away.  


“Mimi is Mimi.” He replied, admiring the new hole in his wall. “There aren’t words to describe her.” He reached out and picked at the flaking plaster, not paying attention to the man behind him. Really he should have known better than to turn his back to Michal.  


Heat radiated behind him. Allen spun around to see Michael directly in front of him, he lifted the knife between him. Michael raised an eyebrow at that, easily grabbing it from his hand and slamming it into the wall beside the other hole. Allen looked to where the knife was now embedded next to his head and sighed.  


“I’m going to have to patch _two_ holes now.” And Michael looked completely exasperated at that.  


“Fucking hell, Allen. I’ll patch the fucking holes.” He said before pushing against Allen so that he was pinned against the wall. “No who the hell is Mimi.” Allen had forgotten how possessive Michael would get of him. He had never gone as far as limiting his friends or insisting on being with him at all times—but he liked to know who Allen knew. And he liked to make sure _they_ knew that Allen was spoken for.  


Allen had also forgotten how hot her found it when Michael got like this, and he couldn’t help but push a little more, just like he used to.  


“Why the hell do you need to know? She’s a friend.” Michael growled.  


“Baby, what did you say to me before you ran in the alley?” Michael asked, and Allen knew exactly what he was fishing for. But the last eight months had hurt, had cut deeper than the gash that had long healed by now. And Allen couldn’t help but cut a little for himself.  


“I don’t remember.” Allen snapped, he pushed at Michael’s chest, but Michael didn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed both of Allen’s hands and pinned them next to his head. Next to the knife. Allen didn’t struggle. He didn’t want to. “It was eight months ago.” Understanding dawned on Michael’s face.  


“So that’s what you’re upset about,” His tone was considerably softer now, his grip and Allen’s hands lose and easy to break. Not that Allen tried.  


Michael transferred both wrists to one hand, knowing Allen well enough by now to know when he wanted to be restrained. His other hand sunk down to stroke Allen’s check.  


“I told you I’d be fine, doll, told you not to worry.” Micheal’s weight shifted so that it was no longer pinning Allen, just supporting him against the wall. Allen glared at Michael.  


“I knew you were fine, you asshole.” He bit out, not wanting to say the next words. Not wanting to admit he thought that Michael didn’t want him.  


“Then why are you so upset, Bellissimo?” Michael asked, and Allen was surprised to hear the Italian slip out of his mouth. He used to avoid his father’s tongue at all costs, now, it seemed he’s embraced it. “Allen.” Michael’s voice had a warning tone to it, Allen bit his lip and nodded,  


“You said you’d come back… You promised.” Allen forced himself to say, voice a whisper, eyes on the ground. “But you didn’t and you were alive, and I thought…” Allen trailed off. Michael’s hand moved to his chin, forcing Allen to look up.  


Allen was surprised to see the look on Michael’s face — eyebrows drawn, a frown on his lips, radiating guilt and pain. But it was the eyes that shocked Allen the most.  


Michael’s eyes were older than Allen had ever seen them. Old, and tired, and _broken._ The brown shimmered slightly with gathering tears, Allen couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Michael cry, they couldn’t have been older than the age of five.  


“Don’t you _ever_ think that I don’t want you, baby.” Michael’s voice came out slightly squeaky, cracking slightly halfway through his sentence. “You’re my world, why else would I have been following you around for years, making sure you got home safe.” Allen nodded, but he mustn’t have seemed convinced. “What did I make you say in the alley?” Allen was unable to answer. “Sweetheart, tell me what you said.” The phrasing suggested it was an order. But Michael’s voice was begging.  


“I said that I’m yours.” Michael looked relieved when Allen finally answered. He nodded.  


“Exactly. And once you’re mine,” He said pushing a little more of his weight into Allen, tightening his grip on his wrists. “I don’t let you go, not until you ask me to.” Micheal’s teeth once again tugged on Allen’s ear, just as they had all those months ago. “And I don’t think you’ll be asking anytime soon, will you, doll.” It wasn’t a question, not really, not when Michael was pushed, hot and heavy against Allen. Allen shook his head, pressing back into Micheal.  


“Answer correctly, baby.” Michael growled, grip tightening threateningly. But Allen knew Michael wouldn’t hurt him, not really. Not ever. “Allen, wanna hear your voice.”  


“No, Michael, I wont be asking.” Allen pushed up against him one last time, lips brushing Michael’s. “Ever.” He said, before sealing the kiss.  


This kiss was hot and heavy, Michael’s mouth moving demandingly against Allen’s, his tongue forcing its way through slightly pressed lips. Michael’s hand ran through his hair, grabbing a handful at the back of his head and pulling so that Allen’s head thumped lightly against the dry wall, effectively, and completely, pinning him to the wall.  


Michael nipped at Allen's bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking slightly before releasing is once again. Michael withdrew slightly, tracing Allen’s jaw with his lips.  


“Say it again.” He demanded before biting down a little too hard on the skin beneath Allen’s jaw. And Allen’s mind was broken, he didn’t know what Michael was asking him to repeat, something he’d said barely minutes before, he knew, but the words were right out of his reach. He had almost gotten a hold of them when Michael ran out of patience, shoving a knee between Allen’s legs and grinding roughly against the other man. Allen moaned loudly as he felt Michael’s dick, hard against his own. “Say it Allen, I wont ask again.”  


vAllen still didn’t know what Michael wanted, but if he had learned anything from their younger years together, it was exactly what to say to make Michael go crazy.  


“I’m yours, Michael, please,” He gasped as Michael rubbed against him again, biting his lip to keep in a moan. Micheal let go of his wrists, a feral smile growing on his face when they stayed exactly where he had put them. The hand not in Allen’s hand moved down and pulled Allen’s lip from between his teeth.  


“No, baby, I want to hear you, I told you-“ He said grinding against Allen, and Allen wish for nothing more than he wished that there weren’t some many _damn layers_ between them. “-I missed the noises you make.” Micheal bit at Allen’s neck, pushing aside his collar so that he could suck a mark right above it, right where everyone would see it and know that he was someones. That he was _Micheal’s._ Allen started babbling as he bit down, teeth scraping against sensitive skin, instead of being unable to talk, now he was unable to stop.  


“Please Michael, I’m yours, please, please take me. I-“ He gasped as Michael’s right hand moved down, skimming over his stomach and coming to a stopping point on his thigh, his left was still buried in Allen’s hair, keeping his neck open to the continued assault. “-I need you, Mikey, missed you so much…” The hand on his thigh began to move, rubbing excruciatingly slow circles, moving upward. Allen whined, and Michael couldn’t help but cherish the sound. “Michael, can I touch you _please.”_ The ‘please’ shifted into a moan as the tips of Michael’s figures brushed Allen’s almost painfully hard cock. Michael let up a bit on the assault of Allen’s neck, lifting his head to look him in the eye. Allen took a deep breath.  


Micheal’s eyes were heavily lidded, pupils blown wide, his hair was a mess, loose from its normal gel, his lips were bruised and puffy, and Allen wanted to touch, lord did Allen want to touch. Michael smiled, obviously reading his mind… Or maybe Allen had said it out loud.  


“‘Course, baby, whatever you want,” Michael straightened to his full height, brushing his lips against Allen’s, “been so good,” He mumbled, “you remember the rules so well.” Allen’s chest tightened at the praise, a whimper slipping out, Allen blushed at the sound, not that it mattered, he was sure his entire face was red by now.  


“Go ahead, honey,” Micheal said between kisses, and Allen didn’t need to be told a third time.  


His hands finally came down, leaving their place above his head, and moving to push the leather bomber jacket Michael was wearing off his shoulders, and damn he had good shoulders. It was a shame to see the jacket go, honestly, it had looked amazing on Michael, but Allen was aching to taste his skin once again.  


“Like that jacket,” Allen mutters, “it’s a good jacket.” Michael smirks at him, the hand on his leg moving around to his ass. Allen barely had time to mourn the loss before it dropped to the back of his thigh and yanked his leg upwards, Michael directing him to wrap it around his waist.  


Both men moaned as Michael shoved roughly forward, Allen’s hands gripped at the back of Michael’s shirt.  


“Maybe one day I’ll let you wear it,” Michael whispered to him, thrusting again, the pleasure so intense that Allen barely processed his next words. “While I fuck you in it.” Allen moaned loudly at that, he loved the sound of Michael’s voice like this, gravely and deep and sexy. “Would you like that baby?” Michael asked with smirk, he knew Allen would like that, knew Allen liked to be marked and claimed. “Like to feel it bunch up under your back as I take you, hard and fast, show you who you belong to?”  


Allen nodded, head banging against the wall as Michael continues to rock against him. “Yes Micheal, please, please take me, please, I need you.” Allen babbled, not even ashamed to beg anymore, not when Michael talked to him like _that._  


“Remind me again, baby, who’s are you?” Michael growled out, hand returning to his hair to keep his head steady against the wall.  


“Yours, yours, forever, Mikey, I’m yours.”  


“Mmmhm,” Micheal hummed, grinding into Allen again, “so that means who’s in charge?” Micheal asked, and Allen could scream, were they really do they _right now?_  


“Later Mike, please, nothing's ever compared to you. I need you,” Michael stilled against him, no longer rubbing against him, no longer touching his cock at all, in fact. Allen whined at the loss.  


“Such a little slut for it you can’t even complete an order now, baby?” Michael growled out, voice low and disapproving, Allen didn’t like that tone. He shook his head, but even as he did so, his body moved on its own accord, seeking friction. Micheal pinned his hips. “Is that gonna be your name now baby? My little slut?” And Allen couldn’t say he hated the sound of it.  


“Okay, slut, tell me-“ Micheal leaned forward, staring directly into Allen’s eyes as he barely brushed against his cock. “-who’s are you?”  


“Yours.” Allen replies in a whine.  


“Right, and who’s in charge?” Michael asked licking a line under Allen’s jaw. Allen shivered at the feel of it.  


“You.” Allen answer earning a rough pinch on the thigh from Michael. He squealed, surprised.  


“Answer me properly, in full sentences, slut.” Allen nodded, this was new for Michael, the need to be in charge. Allen couldn’t deny that it was hot.  


“Yes, sir.” Michael straightened at that, a slightly surprised look on his face, but he recovered quickly, a smirk growing on his face.  


“Who’s in charge?” He asked one more time. “And I won’t ask again.”  


“You are in charge, sir.”  


“Good.” Michael pressed against Allen again as a reward, Allen moaned and squirmed against the wall. “So who decides what his slut needs?”  


“You do, sir,” Allen answers, Michael’s about to make him try on last time when he continues on. “You decide what your slut needs.” And Michael doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing that.  


“Bedroom.” Michael groans out, pulled Allen off the wall and pushing him down the hallway.  


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By the time they reached the end of the hall, their clothes were gone, Michael had Allen pressed against the wall, once again, unable to resist the man now that he was completely opening and willing for Michael’s touch.  


Allen, for his part, couldn’t keep his hands to himself either. They ran up and down Michael’s arms, his back, his stomach; everywhere muscle had replaced the soft tissue of childhood. He wanted to drag Michael into the bedroom, sit him on the bed, and let him watch while Allen opened himself up, but Michael was in charge, that much was clear, and Allen didn’t want to go through the whole “who’s are you” charade again.  


Allen’s thoughts halted as Michael’s hands snuck lower of his back, dropping down to the curve of his ass.  


“So excited to get you ready for my cock baby,” He muttered, hands sinking lower, slipping down between his cheeks. “Gonna open you up nice and slow, just like you need it, right my little slut?” And Allen wanted to say ‘No! Take me now against he wall, I need you hard and fast.’ But Michael knew that, this was a test to see if Allen had been paying attention. Michael brushed a finger over his hole. “Hmm?”  


“Yes sir, I’ll take it however you think I need it.” Came his reply. Allen winced as Michael slapped his ass, hard enough to leave a mark.  


“I don’t think, I know.” Allen nodded.  


“Yes, sir, sorry, sir.” Michael stroked his face.  


“It’s alright, angel, we all make mistakes.” And finally, finally, Michael opened the bedroom door.  


“On the bed, baby.” Michael ordered, not bothering to close the door behind him. “Where’s your stuff?” He asks as Allen crawls to the middle of his bed. Allen pointed to the bedside table, laying back and waiting for Michael to return his attention to him. By the time Michael spoke up again Allen was barely resisting the urge to take care himself, his erection growing uncomfortably painful. “I don’t see your condoms,” Allen coughs.  


“Don’t have any…” Allen turned just in time to see the angry look on Michael’s face.  


_“Don’t have any!_ Allen! You let guys fuck you without protection? You can’t do that sweetheart, you-“ Allen cut him off before he can get any further.  


“I don’t let anybody fuck me, Michael.” Michael fell silent at that, confusion clouding his face.  


“I thought you said…” Allen waved him off.  


“There were a few. In college.” Allen shrugged, the sheets wrinkling under him. “Never felt right like it did with you, so I stopped trying.” Allen smiled sadly at Michael. “I missed you Michael, and not because of that.” Michael crawled onto the bed falling next to Allen, lifting a hand to stroke his face.  


“I missed you too, Allen. I should’a come back sooner, but I couldn’t, not while Luca was alive.” Allen looked at him curiously. Michael sighed. “He did love me, more than anyone else ever had, but he was still an old man, set in his ways…”  


“Not more than anyone, Michael,” Allen said, bringing Michael out of his own mind. Allen pushed up so that he was kneeling.  


“Huh?” Michael also sat up, resting his weight on his elbows as Allen crawled into his lap.  


“Luca didn’t love you more than anyone.” Allen clarified dropping forward so that he was inches away from Michael’s lips. “I do.”  


This kiss was slow and sweet, unlike any they had shared since meeting again, lips moving softly against each other in synchronization, neither man pushing to reign over it, just a slow give and take.  


A bottle cap popped, and Allen knew what was coming long before Micheal trailed warm, lubed fingers between Allen’s cheeks. Allen gasped and spread his legs further. He missed this, but more than anything else he missed this with Michael. Not the sex, or the slightly frightening role-play, just having Michael near him, warm and kind and protective. That’s what Allen missed.  


Michael’s fingers brushed over his hole, and Allen couldn’t decided whether to push against them, chasing the feeling, or grind down into Michael. Micael took the decision off of Allen’s shoulders, placing his free hand on Allen’s him and directing him to push down, Allen’s stiff cock rubbing against Michael’s own. Allen let out a moan, and Michael pushed up, swallowing it as it left his mouth.  


“Ready, baby?” Michael asked, laying back down without a hand to support his weight. Allen nodded, a slightly dazed look in his eye, and Michael removed his hand from Allen’s hip to his face, trying to pull him back to the real world, back to Michael. “I need you to say it, lovely, need you to tell me you’re ready.” Allen nodded again, taking a moment to compose his thoughts and figure out how to work his mouth again.  


“I’m ready, Michael.” Allen said, voice quiet and slightly spacey, and Michael found it adorable, he really did, but he had to make sure Allen understood exactly what was happening.  


“Okay, honey, can you come back to me a little more?” Michael asked softly, moving his hand away from Allen’s ass to still his moving hips. Allen whined but didn’t fight against his grip. Michael’s thumb stroked his hipbone. “You remember the rules, right, Allen?” Michael could see in his eyes, Allen returning to himself. “You say stop, we stop, you need to slow down-“ Allen cut him off.  


“We slow down, I knew Michael, I’m not a virgin.” Allen snapped, finally and completely out of his own head, and Michael smiled. No, he defiantly was _not_ a virgin, Michael knew that from personal, _very_ personal, experience.  


“I know, baby,” Michael released Allen’s hips, his hand once again sliding around and between his cheeks. He thumbed over his hole making Allen shiver on top of him. “I definitely know.” Michael used his hand still on Allen’s face to pull him down into a passionate kiss. As Allen melted into him, licking into his mouth, Michael slipped his first lubed finger into him. Allen froze on top of him, pulling away slightly and biting his lip, his whole body tensing.  


“Relax, love, gotta relax.” Michael whispered, his voice husky from seeing Allen look so, complete, fucked after just one finger. He couldn’t wait to fill Allen up, make him see stars. Couldn’t wait to see what he looked like then.  


Allen didn’t relax, however, and Michael couldn’t go on until he did. In their current position, Michael wasn’t in the place to distract so, trying to keep his lower hand as still as possible, he pushed up and to the side, flipping them so that Allen was on his back. Allen moaned softly as Michael’s finger tugged against his rim but when willingly.  


“You wanna be on your stomach, baby?” Michael asked the man below him, stroking his face softly. “Would feel better while we stretch you.” But Allen shook his head.  


“Wanna see you, wanna- wanna-“ Allen couldn’t find the right word and Michael could tell he was starting to get upset about it, being a normally well-spoken, articulate man, so Michael hushed him with a kiss.  


“Alright, aright, whatever you want, Bellissimo,” Michael said against his lips trying to calm him, “anything for you.”  


As Michael continued to kiss him, resting his forearm on the pillow near Allen’s head and stroking his hair calmingly, he feels Allen relax and slowly starts to open him up again. He feels the moment Allen’s brain registers the moment, feels him tense again and then force himself to relax, distracting himself by kissing Michael with twice the passion. Until Michael brushes his sweet spot. Then, all of a sudden, Allen moans, pushing back against Michael’s finger, chasing the feeling. Michael doesn’t hesitate to give Allen what he was searching for, breaking away from Allen’s lips to see him shiver, to hear his sounds, unmuffled.  


Michael continues to stretch Allen with one finger, letting Allen get used to it slowly, in no rush whatsoever. At one point Allen pushes up, rubbing his cock against Michael’s, precise smearing to make the slide smoother, and Michael has to pause for a minute to avoid rushing through the rest. He had waited way to long to taste Allen again and he was going to savor it.  


“More, Mikey, please,” Michael could tell Allen was ready when he started to babble again, he never could keep his mouth shut, and Michael loved it.  


“Alright, sweetheart,” Michael mumbled, slipping in a second finger beside the first, brushing against Allen’s prostate again to distract him from the slightly uncomfortable stretch. But instead on tensing this time Allen moaned loudly, rocking his hips to meet the thrust of Michael’s fingers. Michael scissored his fingers, unable to resist trying to hurry this part up a little bit now. Seeing Allen like that, all willing and spread out beneath him…  


“Michael, come on,” Allen moaned, trying to rock his hips faster, and Michael could read between the lines. He quickened his pace, avoiding Allen’s sweet spot now, knowing that once he got bossy, he would be getting closer to his climax.  


“One more finger, baby,” Michael said kissing Allen, faster and rougher than before. “And then I can fuck you for real. You like that?” Michael couldn’t help but slip back to the commanding tone he’d used in the living room, but Allen didn’t seem to mind. He reacted to it beautifully, nodding his head frantically, unable to stop himself from thrusting up to seek friction. “You like it when I talk to you like that, don’t you Allen, like it when I tell you what to do, order you around…” Michael mumbled, running his lips against the abused skin of Allen neck. The bruises looked perfect littering his neck, the possessive side of Micheal warmed at the sight. “Answer me, doll.”  


Michael watched Allen’s fingers clutch the blanket under him, knuckles tinted white.  


“Yes,” Allen gasped out, to fucked to me embarrassed at the confession. Michael froze and bit roughly at Allen’s neck.  


“Yes what, love.”  


“Yes sir.” Allen replied, and Michael started to move again.  


“You always were so good at taking commands.” Michael praised, not disappointed by Allen’s reaction to the words. Allen arched his back, chest rising off the bed and drawing Michaels attention. He sunk away from Allen’s mouth and neck, running his lips down Allen’s throat, leaving kisses here and there. He ghosted over one of Allen’s nipples, causing Allen to whipper, even from the minimum contact. Micheal hummed.  


“Yes, I thought so…” He said mostly to himself, closing his mouth over the hardened nipple and sucking slightly. Allen moaned as Michael did so pushing up into Michael’s mouth. Michael scrapped his teeth over it and slipped at third finger into Allen’s hole. The noise that came out of Allen at that was close to a scream, and Michael bit down softly on Allen’s nipple before pulling away and looking up at him with a feral smile.  


“One day, I’ll make you scream,” He told Allen moving back up to hover over his face, “fuck you until you’re begging to cum, until you scream and cry because you feel so good. I promise you, baby.” Michael never went back on a promise, Allen knew, and the words alone almost brought him to his climax — would have, actually, if Michael didn’t know him so well and hadn’t removed his fingers to close them tightly around the base of his cock. “Not yet, baby. You’re going to cum on my cock, or you’re not going to cum at all.” Allen whined at that, his erection and need for release growing painful. He could stop this, tell Michael that and he would bring Allen there in, heartbeat. But Allen didn’t want to. The pain felt good.  


“You ready, babe?” Michael asked, voice reverting back to the soft tone he used when they got to the room. Allen nodded. “Alright.” And he heard the lube cap pop again, saw the look of slight discomfort as Michael rubbed the cold gel onto his cock. Michael wiped his hand on the blanket, and Allen would normally be disgusted but… Well the blanket was long gone by then anyway.  


Michael braced himself above Allen on one hand, using the other to guide himself into Allen. Allen moaned as he felt Michael’s cock press against his entrance, spreading his legs wider. Michael sunk into him slightly, pausing to let Allen get used to the stretch, but Allen’s didn’t want that. Allen wanted to feel all of Michael, filling him up beyond full. He lifted a leg, wrapping it around Micheal’s back and pulling him in closer. Michael raised at eyebrow at him, but didn’t protest.  


Allen threw his head back against the pillow hissing slightly, but not allowing Michael to stop moving, the slide of him inside of Allen to good to resist. Michael bottomed out, once again pausing to let Allen get used to the intrusion, Allen shook his head.  


“No, Mikey, don’t stop, wanna feel you tomorrow,” Allen whined and how was Michael supposed to say no to that? He pulled out slowly before thrusting back in, both men moaning at the feel of it. “Harder, please, don’t hold back.” Michael let out an amused laugh at Allen’s begging, dropping his mouth so that it was even with Allen’s ear.  


“You really are a slut, aren’t you,” Michael asked pulling out faster and thrusting back in roughly. Allen’s loud moan was answer enough. “My slut,” he bit Allen’s earlobe, tugging at it harshly, “only mine.” Allen nodded, opening his mouth to say something, but Michael didn’t let him, withdrawing and slamming back into Allen. The words that had been forming on Allen’s lips turned into a whimper, and Michael couldn’t hold his tongue.  


“Don’t tell me it’s too much, baby, not for my little slut, right?” He asked, slamming into Allen again. The bed shook slightly. “Answer me, Allen.” Michael teased, knowing full well that Allen couldn’t form the words, even a few syllables, at that moment. Allen panted harshly below him, and Michael sat back on his heels, lifting Allen slightly to get the right angle. Allen yelp as Michael rubbed against his sweet spot, over and over, rough thrusts almost bringing tears to his eyes. He reached for his cock, finally needing the release, but Michael stopped him, grabbing his wrist and pinning it to the bed by his side.  


“What did I tell you, babe.” Michael probed, not slowing his thrust, but still expecting Allen to answer this time. Allen whined, remaining otherwise silent, but Michael wasn’t having that. He pinched Allen’s thigh roughly, earning a small squeak from the man. “Answer me.” He commanded.  


“On your cock or not at all sir.” Allen said, words broken up by moans and whimpers as Michael continued to drill into him. Michael was proud that he was able to answer at all, truthfully.  


“Good, Allen,” Michael said, voice shifting into a growl, “now don’t disobey me.” Allen nodded and let his hand go slack under Michael’s grip. “Would hate to punish you, baby,” Michael continued, knowing Allen needed to cum, and knowing that, if Michael tried hard enough, he could get him there from words alone. “Wouldn’t know how, really. Maybe fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until your throat’s swore and your eyes water,” Micheal pushed Allen’s legs higher, searching for an angle that allowed him to hit Allen’s prostate with every stroke, Allen moaned at his words, “mmm, but you’re too much of a slut not to do that willingly, aren’t you. I bet you’d let me fuck your mouth right now, so long as you got to swallow.” Michael found the angle, abusing Allen’s prostate with every thrust as the man shook beneath him, and damn he needed Allen to cum because Michael wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.  


“Maybe a good spanking then-“ Michael didn’t even finish the sentence before Allen threw his head back again, moaning loudly as he climaxed. _“Fuck,”_ Michael groaned as Allen tightened around him. Michael continued to pound into Allen, letting him ride out his climax while also chasing his own release. Michael moved back so that he was hovering over Allen, watching every twitch of his face closely. “Fuck baby, you feel so good,” Michael told him as Allen sunk into another daze from the pleasure, “gonna cum, gonna fill you up, Bellissimo…” Allen moaned at the words and nodded, his willingness pushing Michael over the edge.  


With one more thrust Michael sunk deep into Allen, climaxing and filling him with his cum. Allen moaned at the feeling of it. Michael dropped from his hands to his forearms, unwilling to crush Allen beneath him. He kissed Allen’s face, his cheeks, his eyelids, smiling when Allen opened his eyes, blissed out and relaxed.  


“So, so, good for me, baby,” Michael murmured to him, kissing his lips softly. “Gonna pull out now, okay?” Allen nodded but winced nonetheless as Michael slid out of him. “Shhhh,” Michael hushed him kissing his nose, “you’re alright.” He fell next to Allen, pulling him into his chest. Allen’s eyes were closed again as he settled into Michael, both men uncaring of the mess on Allen’s stomach.  


“You’re alright.”  


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They spent a half an hour of so in blissed out silence, then Allen spoke up.  


“Why did you take so long to come by?” He asked, and Micheal had known it was coming, but he still wished that it didn’t have to, that they could move on without having this conversation. But that wouldn’t help them build a happy relationship, and that’s all Michael wanted. Michael sighed.  


“I’m, um,” He started, unable to find the words, “I’m not sure you want to know…” Allen looked up at him and Michael was startled to see tears in his eyes.  


“So it did have to do with me.” Allen spoke again, and Michael was even more startled at the way Allen had phrased that like a statement, like he was sure that Michael hadn’t wanted him. Michael’s hand moved to caress Allen’s cheek as the first tear fell.  


“No baby, no of course not,” Michael told him, kissing his forehead, “I just didn’t want to worry you.” Allen looked at him, confused, and Michael sighed again. “Truth is, I got shot that night.” Allen sucked in a breath and looked over what parts of Micheal’s body he could see. They had wound up under the sheets at some point, but Allen could see his chest and stomach, and he could see the small, rosebud of fresh skin on Michael’s abdomen. If Allen remembered correctly from the few medical classes he had taken for fun—and he did—Michael was lucky to be alive. But he also remembered that it shouldn’t have taken eight months to heal, especially since the skin was so new.  


“That’s not from that night,” Allen said tapping beside the injury, not knowing if it was still sensitive. “That’s more recent.” Michael rolled his eyes but smiled, a proud look about him.  


“How are you so goddamn smart, Bellissimo?” Michael asked but Allen didn’t reply, simply raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation. Michael rubbed at his face. “Okay, maybe I’ve been shot twice since that night…” Allen gasped, sitting up.  


“Micheal!” He said, voice disapproving, slapping his chest lightly. Michael raised his hands in surrender.  


“I know, I know,” he said, catching Allen’s hands and holding them between their bodies, “it’s just people are starting to recognize me. Before I was so new that I wasn’t an issue, walking around alone, going where ever I wanted, whenever I wanted… But not anymore. Now they know me.”  


“Who knows you?” Allen probed, sensing a deeper layer to this subject, but Michael just sent him his most charming, playboy smile and winked.  


“Everybody.” Allen rolled his eyes, and Michael grew serious. “My lifestyle’s dangerous, Allen, you’re smart, you know that.” Allen snorted at that.  


“Yes, I do understand that the life of a mob boss is a dangerous one to lead.” He replied snarly. Michael laughed and wrapped his arms around Allen pulling him roughly back into his chest.  


“It would be dangerous for you too,” He paused, “if you decide you want to stay in my life…” Allen nodded, curls rubbing against Michael’s bare chest.  


“I suppose it would be,” Allen tilted his head up to look Michael in the eye, “but I just got you back, I’m not planning on giving you up anytime soon.” Michael felt warmth blossoming in his chest at the answer, Allen was going to stay with him! he couldn’t help but smile broadly. “I meant it when I said I love you, always have.” Allen murmured, voice quieter than it had been before.  


“I love you too, Bellissimo,” Michael replied, crinkling his nose as he looked at the mess on their stomachs, “now, let’s go get cleaned up, I have no desire to sit with dried cum on my stomach any longer.”  


“And you did before?” Allen teased, a smile on his face. Micheal shook his head.  


“Certainly not, but I’m not sure you could have made it to the bathroom before when you were lost in that head of yours.” Michael replied, pushing up pulling Allen with him. As he dragged him into the bathroom, Michael looked over his shoulder.  


“So…” He said smile melting into a smirk, “spanking, huh?”  


Allen slapped him.  



End file.
